Homecoming
by SolarRose29
Summary: Civil War Spoilers! Clint returns to his family. Request by DevinBourdain


Hooray for domestic!Bartons :) I am totally on the Claura bandwagon

(Fun fact: all the scenes involving Francis (yes, I changed the name because of the comics, although I did make Cooper the middle name) and Lila are inspired by true events. You might be surprised how much inspiration can be gathered from babysitting my neighbor's kids)

* * *

Balancing Nathaniel on her hip, Laura collected the dirty dishes from the table. She lifted her arm to allow a giggling and shrieking Lila to pass beneath, Francis chasing after her. As Laura stacked the plates on the counter, she called a reminder to her children to be mindful of all the breakable items in the house. Using her wrist to push back a stray piece of hair from her forehead, she surveyed the amount of dishes waiting to be washed and decided to leave them be. She'd wash them in the morning.

She went into the living room and set Nathan in his play pen in order to free her arms for the basket of laundry she'd taken off the line just hours before. After sorting the clothes according to their owners, she began folding them. When she came across one of Clint's flannel shirts, she paused. She pressed it to her face, closed her eyes and inhaled. Beneath the detergent and the unique aroma of line-dried linen, she could still smell him. Gently, she lowered the shirt and folded it with care.

Her thoughts wandered, imaging all the situations her husband might be in. She tried not to think of all the ways he could be hurt, bleeding, or perhaps even dying, at the very moment she was quietly doing his laundry. The only reassurance she had was her belief in Clint's ability to keep himself alive. She knew he was highly trained and incredibly skilled. But that didn't mean he was invincible.

Her eyes skittered to the calendar hanging on the wall. He'd been gone longer than he said he would be. And she had no way to contact him and find out why. Sometimes that was the worst part. The silence, the inability to communicate. It made things ten times worse. Shaking herself from her morose thoughts, Laura quickly finished the laundry and headed for the stairs. Francis shouted suddenly and Laura sighed, setting the basket on the bottom step.

"Mom! Lila broke my action figure!" the boy cried, sprinting around the corner.

"No, I didn't!" her other child defended, coming up behind him.

"Yes, you did!" Francis insisted, holding up the toy as proof. "Look, his arm is broken off!"

"I found him like that," Lila objected.

In a flash, Francis gave his sister a shove. "You're so annoying!"

Lila stumbled and her eyes filled with tears. Laura took that as her cue to intervene. She stepped forward and caught her son's wrist. "Francis Cooper, that was not nice! Don't shove your sister. Now apologize."

Shuffling his feet, Francis hung his head and grumbled, "Sorry."

"No, I want you to look her in the eye and do it," Laura reprimanded.

With a huff, Francis did as he was told.

"It's okay." Lila was quick to forgive. "I'll help you fix him," she offered.

"Okay," Francis agreed. He turned to look at his mom. "Do we have any super glue left?"

"Let me check." Laura went into the kitchen and pulled out one of the drawers. She dug through flashlights, old shopping lists, matches, decks of playing cards, wrinkled receipts, paperclips, batteries and pens until she found a crinkled tube of the desired glue. Francis cheered when she held it up. "I don't think there's much left," Laura warned.

"But there's enough to fix Captain Steve. Right, Mom?" Lila questioned, staring up at her with eager eyes.

"We'll see," Laura hummed, holding out her hand.

Francis placed the Captain America action figure in her palm and she set about mending the damage. Her kids huddled close to her, watching her work.

"There," she announced once she'd finished. "Now we'll just leave him on top of the fridge until that dries." She set the toy out of harm's way.

"When's he going to be ready?" Francis inquired impatiently.

"Probably twenty minutes," Lila informed him with all the authority she had in her small voice.

He shrugged, accepting the answer. Laura put the glue back in the drawer and glanced at the clock.

"Alright, you two, you have fifteen more minutes to play and then it's bedtime," she told them.

Her statement was met with identical groans from her children.

"Can't we wait until he's done?" Francis bargained, pointing at the figure on the fridge.

"No, you've been staying up way too late these past couple of nights and it makes you cranky in the morning," Laura answered.

"I'm not cranky," Francis denied.

"Me neither," Lila echoed.

"You're still going to bed at eight thirty," Laura said, heading back toward her abandoned laundry basket.

"Please?" Francis begged.

"No," Laura responded. "And the more time you spend asking me, the less time you have to play."

"But Mom-" Francis began.

"Only thirteen minutes left," Laura reminded as she ascended the stairs, basket in hand.

She opened the door to the kids' bedroom and sighed at the mess within. She added cleaning up their room to her never-ending to-do list. After putting away the clothes, she grabbed a fresh pair of pajamas for Nathaniel and then went back downstairs.

"Come here, little guy," she cooed, hefting the baby from the play pen. "Let's change your diaper and get you to bed."

Once Nathaniel was changed and dressed, she took him upstairs and laid him down in his crib. He fussed until she gave him his pacifier and favorite stuffed turtle. As soon as he settled down, Laura went back downstairs to round up her other children. Francis and Lila were sitting cross-legged on the floor, a jigsaw puzzle dumped in a pile between them. Shaking her head fondly, Laura knelt down beside them.

"This one looks pretty tricky," she commented, picking up the box and looking at the picture on the front.

"Yep. It's tricky," Lila agreed cheerfully.

Puzzle piece in hand, Francis didn't reply, face wrinkled in concentration.

"You know what, I think we should all get a good night's sleep and tackle this in the morning," Laura advised.

Energy flagging, Francis hardly put up any resistance. He climbed to his feet and mounted the stairs. Lila took a bit more convincing but finally Laura was able to get her up to the bedroom as well. By the time they got there, Francis had already changed and was in the bathroom, brushing his teeth. Laura helped Lila out of her everyday clothes and let the girl pick out the she wanted to wear. Once dressed, Lila bounced into the bathroom, squeezed the toothpaste tube too hard and made a general mess. Laura thought about cleaning it all up but figured one more night wasn't going to do any harm. As soon as they finished, they got into bed, Francis climbing up to the top bunk.

"Good night," Laura said, heading for the door.

"Wait, Mom, you forgot to read us a story," Lila called.

Laura changed direction, coming back into the room. "I guess I did. What should we read tonight?"

Lila popped out of bed and ran to the bookshelf. She selected a book about a princess, the cover pink and glittery. When Francis saw it, he immediately protested. Their argument began to grow in volume and Laura, eager to keep from waking Nathaniel, quickly suggested a compromise. Each child could pick out one book. Placated, Francis got out of bed and found a book about an inventor frog. Ushering them back to their mattresses, Laura took a seat in the rocking chair across from the bunk bed, where she could address both her kids and hold up the pictures so they could both see them.

By the time the books were finished, Francis was already sleeping. Laura rose and smoothed his hair from his face before tucking the blankets around him more securely. Bending down, she helped a drowsy Lila get comfortable. After pressing a quick kiss to her daughter's cheek, she checked that the night light was on and then went to shut off the ceiling light. She clicked the light switch and was about to close the door when Lila's voice stopped her.

"Mom? When is Daddy coming home?"

Laura froze. She had been waiting for, dreading, the moment when one of her children would ask that. It happened every time he left on one of his missions. Francis and Lila missed him when he was gone and couldn't wait for his return. Swallowing past the unexpected lump in her throat, Laura navigated her way through the bedroom clutter and got down on both knees beside Lila's bed.

"Soon, honey. He'll be home soon," she answered, praying she wasn't lying.

Satisfied with the reply, Lila closed her eyes. Absently clearing a few forgotten toys off the foot of Lila's bed, Laura struggled to keep her thoughts from straying. She descended the stairs, losing her battle against the 'what ifs'. What if Clint was hurt? What if he couldn't contact her? What if some villain got in a lucky shot? What if Clint was never coming home?

Desperate to distract herself, Laura began cleaning up the downstairs. She placed the books on the shelf, the toys in the bin, the crayons in the box, the shoes by the door, the dirty socks in the laundry hamper, the candy wrappers in the trash, the cups in the sink. She even considered scooping up all the puzzle pieces and replacing them in their box. But she had told the kids they could work on it in the morning so she left it untouched. Grabbing the broom, she swept all the dirt from the hardwood and emptied the dustpan into the garbage can, which was looking rather full so she changed the bag and took it outside.

When she came back in, she glanced at the clock and was surprised at the late hour. On any normal day, she would already be in bed, sleeping. She dragged herself up the steps again and began her bedtime routine. After changing into a comfortable set of sleepwear, she washed her face and brushed her teeth. Returning to the bedroom, she got her brush from her dresser and began stroking it through her hair. When all the tangles had been removed, she set the brush aside, hopped into bed and pulled the covers up to her shoulder.

It had been another long day, filled with cleaning, cooking, and general mothering. Laura was certain she'd fall asleep the second her head hit the pillow. But the empty space on the bed beside her stared at her until she couldn't stand it a minute longer. Tossing aside the blankets, she padded through the house to the kitchen. Lila's innocent question had stirred the fear Laura kept under tight control in the back of her mind. But now it was raging at the forefront of her thoughts and she couldn't sleep. Knowing Clint was out there somewhere, facing the greatest threats to mankind...it was too much.

Her worry translated into a sort of nervous energy and her body fairly buzzed with it. The dishes on the counter looked much more inviting now and she tackled the chore with vigor. The water was steaming and overflowing with bubbles, and the dishes got scrubbed within an inch of their life. The monotony of the task was soothing. Wash and rinse. Wash and rinse. The cycle was unbroken until she heard a noise. It was the creak of a floorboard, somewhere in the hallway behind her.

Already scared for her husband, Laura had no fear left for herself. And so it was with annoyance, rather than fright, that she quietly stepped to the knife block and withdrew the largest one she owned. Being married to a trained assassin did have its benefits. Laura was better equipped to protect herself than she would have been after countless self-defense courses. Clint had taught her a few tricks she wouldn't have found in any of those classes.

Prepared to face the idiot who thought it was a good idea to break into her house, Laura suddenly spun around. And promptly dropped the knife in shock. Leaning against the door frame, Clint smirked at her.

"You know, that's the second time in two weeks a woman's tried to stab me to death," he quipped.

Laura couldn't reply. She just stood there. They looked at each other in silence for a full minute. Clint made the first move.

"Come here," he murmured, stepping over to her and opening his arms.

Immediately, Laura moved into his embrace, pressing her lips to his as his arms came around her back. Beneath his touch, all her worry melted away and she gathered strength and relief from his presence. They pulled their faces away just far enough to be able to stare into each other's eyes. Clint's gaze softened further and he tightened his grip on her, lowering his face into the space between her shoulder and neck. Laura recognized the shift from being the one to receive comfort to being the one to give it.

"What happened?" she whispered.

Clint mutely shook his head, nuzzling into her skin. "Damn, I missed you," he breathed.

"Clint?" she questioned.

"Give me a minute," he requested, voice muffled.

Relieved to have her husband back and, as far as she could tell, in one piece, Laura was willing to give him anything he asked for. After another moment, Clint straightened. He sighed in equal parts embarrassment and contentment. Placing his hands on either side of her face, he stood looking at her.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, kissing her again.

She happily returned the kiss before taking him by the hand and leading him to the couch. They sank down onto the cushions and Laura curled up beside him, drawing her legs up and leaning her weight against his side. His arm easily circled around her shoulder, securing her position. She inhaled and frowned. He smelled like generic soap, the kind found in hotels. It wasn't strong enough to cover the scent of smoke on his uniform. She twisted her head up to make eye contact with him.

"Are you okay?" she inquired.

He smiled down at her. "I'm okay," he assured.

Under closer scrutiny, Laura was able to discover a scratch running along his temple, just below his hairline. She ran a light finger over the scab. "You're okay?" she repeated skeptically.

"Just a few bumps and bruises," he confessed. "Nothing that won't be gone in a couple of days."

Laura hummed in approval, retracting her hand and resettling against him. "You want to talk about it?" she offered.

Clint took a deep breath. "It's all so messed up," he muttered.

Patiently, Laura waited, allowing him the time he needed to decide on his words.

"Stark-" he started but clamped his mouth shut with an audible click. His throat worked, adam's apple bobbing up and down. "Stark couldn't see past his own ego and those damn Accords to the bigger picture," he burst out.

"Which was?" Laura prompted.

"You remember the Winter Soldier, right?" Clint asked abruptly.

Laura nodded, confused by the seemingly random subject. "Steve's friend from World War Two. The Russians captured him and brainwashed him into becoming their personal assassin."

"Right. They gave him some kind of serum to turn him superpowered," Clint added. "It turns out, he wasn't the only one."

"What?" Laura asked in alarm.

"They had more of that super juice. They it gave to a whole bunch of their best soldiers," Clint continued.

"They're still alive? Why haven't we heard about them until now?" Laura inquired.

"They were kept in cryofreeze like Barnes," Clint explained. "There was this crazy Hydra dude who was going to thaw them and unleash them on the world."

"And Tony wouldn't help you?" Laura questioned, incredulous.

Clint snorted. "He didn't believe Cap when he told him about it."

"So how did you stop them? These super soldiers?" Laura asked.

The corner of Clint's mouth ticked up in a wry smile. "I didn't."

"What? Then what are you doing here?" Laura sat up, her eyebrows creased in confusion.

Clint wearily slumped in his seat. "To make a long story short, Steve and Barnes ended up going to take care of it by themselves."

"Natasha told me Barnes nearly killed Steve two years ago. And now they're working together?" Laura crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"I know, it's pretty hard to believe," Clint chuckled. "But apparently a lot can happen in two years. Barnes is actually a pretty okay guy." He paused. "Once you can get past the metal arm, the creepy staring, and the homicidal tendencies, of course," he amended.

"And where were you while they were taking care of things?" Laura queried, watching Clint's face closely.

The muscle beneath his left eye jumped. "Not in Siberia, where I should have been."

"Clint..." Laura warned quietly. "Tell me."

"Stark didn't want us to go," Clint began, eyes darkening. "He tried to stop us."

"He tried to stop you?" Laura repeated in disbelief.

Clint shook his head. "Not just him. Rhodes and Vision too." His jaw clenched. "And Nat," his voice cracked on Natasha's name, the betrayal evident.

Laura's mouth dropped open in shock and she covered it with a hand. Clint bowed his head, looking more defeated than Laura had ever seen him. His shoulders sagged and he scrubbed a hand through his short hair.

"I think I'm done with the whole superhero gig," he muttered.

"Are you sure?" Laura inquired, lowering her hand.

He raised his head and shrugged. "I don't know. It used to be so much easier. I put on my suit, shot a couple aliens, everyone went home happy. Then there was Ultron, then the Accords. And now...now I'm a wanted man, fighting my own team."

Laura's face creased in sympathy.

"If being a hero means beating the crap out of my friends, then you can count me out," Clint declared, forcing himself to sound casual.

"I'm sorry it came to that," Laura murmured, petting the hair at the base of his neck. "But you should know that you'll always be my hero." She leaned closer and placed her lips against the gash on his temple.

He smiled softly and caught one of her hands, tangling their fingers. She resumed her position at his side, maneuvering until she was able to lay her head on his chest. He set his chin on her head, tipping his nose into her hair, feeling it tickle his jaw. Minutes passed as they sat curled on the couch, without speaking, without needing to.

"What happens now?" Laura questioned, feeling warm and comfortable.

"I have a couple ideas," Clint answered huskily, slipping his arm down to her waist.

Laura grinned and slid her hand up under his shirt, running her palm along his stomach. She paused lightly above the area replaced with synthetic flesh before moving higher, rubbing his pecs. He responded by cupping the back of her head in his hand, drawing her face close to his. Their lips met and he deepened the kiss. Without breaking the contact, Laura shifted onto his lap. Clint's other hand slipped lower and Laura felt her heart skip a beat.

"Daddy?"

The quiet call broke them apart. Laura laughed softly, standing up. Clint reluctantly let her up without protest, although his eyes promised they would continue later. Laura looked over her shoulder to where two round faces were pressed against the bars of the banister. As Clint stood, his mouth split into a grin.

"Hey, guys!" he greeted, taking the stairs two at a time and scooping both his kids into his arms. "Oh, I missed you!" He peppered each of them with kisses.

"Daddy!" Lila exclaimed.

"Yes, princess?" Clint shifted her higher in his grip.

"I love you, Daddy," Lila pronounced sweetly.

"I love you too, sweetheart," Clint answered gently.

"Hey, Dad, can we go on our trip tomorrow?" Francis asked hopefully.

"You mean the water skiing we had planned?" Clint clarified.

Francis nodded.

"Of course we will, bud," Clint declared.

"Are you sure?" Francis queried.

"Absolutely," Clint reassured him solemnly. He hugged his kids tighter, relishing in the simple fact that he could.

Laura stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching her husband reconnect with their children. She smiled, feeling a peace settle over her heart. She let them have a few more minutes, Francis and Lila chatting excitedly to Clint about the games they had played and books they had read in his absence. When the clock in the living room chimed the hour, Laura mounted the steps.

"Okay everyone, it's getting pretty late," she commented.

"That's right," Clint agreed. "And we have a big day tomorrow so you better get to bed or you're going to be really cranky in the morning."

Lila and Francis giggled.

"That's what Mom said," Francis informed his dad.

"Well, she's a very smart woman," Clint observed, winking at Laura.

She shook her head fondly.

"Alright, here we go. Off to bed," Clint announced. He grabbed both kids and lifted them off the stairs.

They squealed in surprised delight. Clint laughed and carried them up the rest of the staircase, down the hall and into the bedroom. Laura came along behind them and flipped on the light switch. Clint dumped his kids onto Lila's bed and proceeded to tickle them. They squirmed, trying to escape his fingers, laughing the whole time. Nathan stood up in his crib, chubby hands clutching the rail for support. When he caught sight of Clint, he began bouncing up and down. With Clint still occupied, Laura stepped over to the baby and picked him up.

"Okay, time to settle down," Clint said, bringing an end to the tickling.

"More! Do it again, Daddy!" Lila demanded.

"No, no, we have to get some sleep for tomorrow, remember?" Clint reminded.

"Come on, Dad, just one more time?" Francis requested.

"I wish I could but your mom would kill me if I kept you awake one more second," Clint answered.

Lila stuck her bottom lip out in a pout.

"I think you learned that from your Aunt Nat," Clint observed. "But it's not going to work."

Lila sighed and started crawling under her blanket.

"Let's go, kiddo." Clint helped Francis up into his bunk.

At that moment, Nathan spat out his pacifier and shrieked in a bid for Clint's attention.

Clint turned around with a grin. "Hey, little man, don't worry. I didn't forget about you."

Laura passed him off to Clint, who gladly accepted him.

"Uphm. I think you've gained weight since I last saw you," he muttered to the baby.

Nathan gurgled happily. Clint shifted the boy to one arm and put his other arm around Laura's shoulders, guiding her back across the room. He paused them in front of the bunk bed. After the hours spent in his cell in the Raft, certain he would never see his family again, it was almost surreal to be standing in his house, holding his children and his wife. He had everything he needed and he couldn't ask for more.

They stayed in the kids' room until Francis and Lila fell asleep. By this time, Nathan's eyes were also drooping. Laura retrieved the pacifier, sticking it in the baby's mouth before gathering him from Clint's arms and laying him down in the crib again. Clint held the door open for her and she exited into the hallway. Pausing a moment in the doorway, Clint surveyed his sleeping children, drinking in the precious sight of them.

"I'll see you in the morning," he promised quietly.

He shut off the light and joined Laura in the hallway. She circled her arms behind his neck, standing on tiptoes to whisper in his ear. He smiled.

"Yes, ma'am."

They moved into the bedroom together and shut the door behind them.

* * *

A/N. Okay, before anyone gets mad that I didn't have Clint address the Steve&Tony fight-I chose to write the fic this way because in the movie, Cap recruited Clint to help him fight the supposed army of Winter Soldiers. That's what Clint says at the airport. After the airport fight, he was put in prison and didn't get out until Steve broke them all out. And, based on his letter at the end of the movie, I don't think Steve would have bad-mouthed Tony to the rest of the team. So as far as Clint knows, the only threat were the psycho killers. Also, I didn't have him involved in the Accords because I'm going off the premise that he retired at the end of Age of Ultron so it didn't effect him anyway.


End file.
